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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051711">Now I Return to You (I See Forever in Your Eyes)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleAngelFyre/pseuds/NoelleAngelFyre'>NoelleAngelFyre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Barry Allen is a giant ball of marshmallow fluff and he's not afraid to say it, Barry does not have self-image issues, Barry just wants a happy ending, Fluff and Humor, Len is a softie for this kid, Len secretly thinks it's adorable, Leonard Snart Lives, M/M, Mentions of Time Travel, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Propositions, Snarking at each other is how they show affection, Start of Relationship, The stuffed polar bear has a starring role, These two are in love and they know it, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, hero/villain relationship, sequel story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:55:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleAngelFyre/pseuds/NoelleAngelFyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s <em>my</em> polar bear.”</p>
<p>“Which <em>I</em> won for you, thank you very much.”</p>
<p>Barry opens his mouth, fully intending to deliver a splendidly sassy remark, and all that comes out is a half-assed choke of confusion.  Won for him?  There’s no way…his dad would have mentioned if Barry had ever crossed paths with Leonard Snart as a child – or Barry would have remembered it, even though he admittedly can’t remember when he exactly got the bear in the first place which suggests he was very young and…and…</p>
<p>…and Snart just got off a time ship.</p>
<p>____________________________________________</p>
<p>Sequel to "You're the One I've Waited For (Now You're Home)", in which Barry discovers the truth about his beloved polar bear.  Fluff and feelings ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Allen &amp; Leonard Snart, Barry Allen/Leonard Snart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>356</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Now I Return to You (I See Forever in Your Eyes)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First and foremost - you will want to read "You're the One I've Waited For (Now You're Home)" first. :)</p>
<p>Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593029/chapters/59403259</p>
<p>Second, to everyone who requested a follow-up to that story, I hope this was worth the wait and makes you smile as much as the first one did.  I had so much fun writing this and am equally excited to kick off the Independence Day weekend by sharing this with you.</p>
<p>Comments and kudos are love - and so are all of you.  Seriously.  I can't express how much you encourage me to keep writing.</p>
<p>Also - anyone who is looking for the next installment of "Steal My Heart (It's Already Yours)"...see you later today. ;)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s three o’clock in the morning and Barry has spent twenty-four hours putting out fires (literal and figurative) left and right across the city.  He missed his morning caffeine fix, was yelled at by four different detectives, missed lunch, was five minutes away from getting off work on time when a rush case came bulldozing through the lab door, scarfed half a protein bar so he didn’t slip into a coma, and then got called away to a three-car pile up in the middle of downtown.</p>
<p>In short, it’s been a long day and he is too tired to put up with one more tidbit of crap.</p>
<p>“You look like hell.” Snart observes, himself wearing a black leather jacket in place of that stupid parka, and looking quite put-together on Barry’s couch.  The man helped himself to the bookshelf, which means he has been here longer than five minutes and probably scoped out the entire unit.</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Barry deadpans, kicking the door closed behind him and shoving the lock in place, “Why are you in my apartment?”</p>
<p>“Just got back in town.  Thought I’d check in.” Snart waves a lazy hand around the room, “The accommodations leave quite a bit to be desired.  But then again, I guess that’s to be expected living off the precinct payroll.”</p>
<p>“If you’re quite done insulting my life choices, you can leave.” Barry stumbles into the kitchen, stubs his toe on the cabinet, and all-but shoves his head into the fridge in search for carbs.</p>
<p>“Such a chilly reception, Barry.  I’m hurt.”</p>
<p>“You’ve been back in town less than twelve hours, and you’re already subjecting me to your puns?” the fridge door is closed with another kick.  He’s just in the mood to kick things right now.</p>
<p>The water bottle is halfway to his mouth when Barry spots something white peeking out from the other side of the couch.  White and fluffy. “…Why do you have my polar bear on the couch with you?”</p>
<p>“He’s good company.”</p>
<p>“He’s <em>my</em> polar bear.”</p>
<p>“Which <em>I</em> won for you, thank you very much.”</p>
<p>Barry opens his mouth, fully intending to deliver a splendidly sassy remark, and all that comes out is a half-assed choke of confusion.  Won for him?  There’s no way…his dad would have mentioned if Barry had ever crossed paths with Leonard Snart as a child – or Barry would have remembered it, even though he admittedly can’t remember when he exactly got the bear in the first place which suggests he was very young and…and…</p>
<p>…and Snart just got off a time ship.</p>
<p>“What did you <em>do</em>?” the water bottle almost goes straight to the floor, saved only by a last-minute reflex, “You…<em>how</em> did you…<em>what</em> did you <em>do</em>??”</p>
<p>“Hinge your jaw back in place, Barry.  It’s a bad look otherwise.”</p>
<p>“No!” if he’s being dramatic right now, that’s just too bad, “What did you do – kidnap me??”</p>
<p>“I will have you know, your parents willingly handed you over to me while they enjoyed a night on the town.” Snart turns the page of whatever book he pilfered off Barry’s bookshelf, like he can’t be bothered to notice Barry is all-but foaming at the mouth, “<em>And</em> offered to pay me for my services after I took such good care of their precious little peanut.  Which, by the way, is about how big you were back then.  Must’ve had one hell of a growth spurt.”</p>
<p>“I don’t—”</p>
<p>“Believe me…yeah, I know.” Snart reaches into his pocket and, without ever looking up from his book, holds out a single strip of film – the kind that rolls out of photo booths at carnivals or arcades, with four or five little snapshots to commemorate the occasion.  Barry glares down at the footage…and then wilts into a little puddle of disbelief.  Thanks to Iris’ definition of a ‘cute idea’, Barry has seen his own baby pictures, and while there is truth to say all babies look alike up to a certain point, he recognizes that outfit.  According to the plethora of photographs Iris pulled out for his high school’s ‘before and after’ photo shoot for seniors (because every person who managed to survive high school really wants their graduation day to include their baby photos), it was his favorite outfit.  And there he is…sitting in Snart’s lap…in a photo booth…wearing that outfit…and a smile.</p>
<p>The fact his parents handed his infant self over to a complete stranger – to Leonard Snart, of all people – is a matter to be dealt with in the privacy of his bedroom, rocking back and forth in the fetal position for as long as he damn well pleases. “And…and what?  You…you indulged me by…what?  Taking me to an amusement park?”</p>
<p>“Carnival, actually.”</p>
<p>“…Why?”</p>
<p>“Because at that age, you would have made Charles Manson reconsider his life choices.” Snart turns another page, “Despite how you may have turned out, you were unbelievably cute at eighteen months fresh to the world.”</p>
<p>Barry opens his mouth, then his brain screeches to a halt and veers left, “…What do you mean, despite how I turned out?”</p>
<p>“Just what I said.”</p>
<p>“…Are you implying I am no longer cute?”</p>
<p>Snart makes a half shrug with one shoulder and quirks his mouth downward: two minor exertions of physical expression which, when combined, deliver an insult of the highest injury.</p>
<p>“I…I am <em>precious</em>.” This will not be disputed under any circumstances, “I am a giant marshmallow ball of sugar-coated red-velvet sweetness with buttercream frosting sprinkled with rainbows and sunshine and good will towards mankind – <em>thank you very much</em>!!”</p>
<p>“And since we’re fluffing out your resume,” the man doesn’t even have the decency to sound impressed by that off-the-cuff monologue, “you are certainly not wanting for self-awareness, are you?  Or humility, for that matter.”</p>
<p>If not for the damage it would do to his wallet, having to pay for the repairs and all, Barry would love nothing more than to pitch Snart right out the window – ten stories high and all.  See if his snarky attitude can manifest into a parachute before he goes splat.</p>
<p>“What exactly did you say to my parents that inspired them to leave me alone with a jackass in a furry hood?”</p>
<p>“First of all, you loved my hood.  Second, it is hardly my fault that your parents proved a little too trusting with a complete stranger.  But then again,” he finally puts the book aside and so lowers himself to give Barry his full attention, “you had to pick up that little sunshine filter from somewhere, didn’t you?  And I must admit you were quite helpful at the museum that night.”</p>
<p>“Museum—oh my god…you took me on a heist?!  I wasn’t even two yet!!”</p>
<p>“It was hardly a ‘heist’, Barry.” Snart has the audacity to <em>roll his eyes</em>, “Just a little souvenir.”</p>
<p>“You broke into the museum after hours and left with something that didn’t belong to you.  That’s called a heist – and don’t you dare ‘tomato—toh-mah-to’ me right now.” Barry grabs the polar bear and holds it to his chest like an airplane floatation device because if he’s going to pout, and he is, then he is most certainly going to be dramatic about it, “What was it anyway?  Diamonds?”</p>
<p>“You picked them.”</p>
<p>“I was eighteen months old.  If it was shiny, I pointed at it.  I can hardly be blamed for that – anymore than I can be blamed for my lack of judgment.”</p>
<p>The insult misses the mark spectacularly, because Snart just gives him a smirk for the ages, “And who’s to blame for your lack of judgment these days, Mister ‘There’s Good In You, Snart’?”</p>
<p>…Jerk.</p>
<p>“You know there’s nothing to really stop me from throwing you out the door, right?”</p>
<p>“That would require you to stop cuddling your teddy.” The smirk only widens, and Barry – on a point of principle – burrows his face deeper in the aged white fur, “I’m not sure you’re up for that right now.  It might break you.”</p>
<p>“I hate you.”</p>
<p>“No, you don’t.”</p>
<p>Barry would take offense at the cock-sure way Snart delivers that line if it weren’t cemented in cast-iron truth, “…No, I don’t.” his shoulders sag a little as he drops to the couch, forcing Snart is move his leg out of the way, “Doesn’t make you any less of a jerk.”</p>
<p>“Guilty as charged.” Outside, the blare of a car horn makes Barry jump a little.  He didn’t realize his window was open.</p>
<p>The bear faintly smells of cheap detergent, proof it’s spent more time in Barry’s bed and close to his person the last few weeks than in the last two decades. “…Why are you really here?” </p>
<p>He is acutely aware of how small his voice sounds, how childish he looks clinging to a bit of stuffed plush while curled on the couch, but Snart doesn’t seem interested in giving him grief for it.  Odd, but welcome at the moment.</p>
<p>“As much of a headache as it was,” Snart—can he call him Leonard now?  Is that okay?  Can he just do it anyway?—speaks in a softer tone than usual, which isn’t to say it’s gentle or tender as much as simply absent his usual dose of cocky sarcasm, “being stuck on that tin can, traveling through time and all, got me thinking more about the future.”</p>
<p>Something in the man’s tone has Barry suddenly feeling twitchy.  His mouth is dry, and the water bottle is empty.  He swaps out the bear for the bottle and beelines into the kitchen with no modicum of grace. “The future, huh?” he tries for a disinterested tone and is pretty sure he failed spectacularly.</p>
<p>“Mm hm.” Apparently Barry’s quick exit into the kitchen doesn’t save him (and really, what was he thinking – when the apartment is as small as it is?) because the next thing he knows, Snart is propped up against the counter in a relaxed line that unfairly draws attention to his body, “Specifically, what the future ultimately holds for me.  And you.”</p>
<p>Barry feels the other man slide his eyes over in a deliberate motion, and he clutches the bottle a little tighter like it might protect him from what he equally fears and…oh god, can he even think it? – hopes for, “…And me and you.”</p>
<p>“…Snart—”</p>
<p>“Len.” It’s a command, plain and simple, no room for argument – and even if there was, which there isn’t, Barry loses whatever tenuous hold he had on any kind of dispute when long cool fingers take hold of his chin and tip him to the side, enough that he can meet the piercing blue of the other man’s eyes.  Damn those eyes.  <em>Damn</em> those eyes.  All those eyes have ever done is fire off a challenge from across the room and turned out a starring role in more than one completely inappropriate fantasy.</p>
<p>“Len,” Barry’s voice breaks around the name (fantastic…) as he fights for half a strand of concentration, “…I’ve been horribly wrong in the past – misinterpreting things and then having it all blow up in my face.  I can’t go through that again.”</p>
<p>“Just throwing out my pitch, Scarlet.” It feels like an eternity since Barry heard that name tossed his way, “What happens next is your call.”</p>
<p>They’re much too close.  Too close for Barry to hope for any sense of self-control.  Every secret fantasy, every shameful thought, every improperly strayed thought when he’s dealing with this man, has boiled down to this moment – this horribly wonderful moment in his kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning when Barry has been running on fumes all day and is past the point of better judgment.  Every bad idea he’s ever entertained – and then promptly shoved into a dark corner of the mind – is now seeming not only like a collection of fantastic ideas, but a collection of the best ideas he’ll ever have for the rest of his life.</p>
<p>His higher logic tries to make one last bid, and then Barry’s eyes flicker back to the couch, where a little white polar bear sits as an innocent reminder.  The film strip is there too, if Barry correctly remembers where he left it.  All of it, irrefutable evidence that this man – Captain Cold, the Flash’s named nemesis in all the tabloids – had every opportunity to inflict damage on Barry when he was vulnerable and didn’t take it.  Barry was too young to dredge up those memories, even if tried his hardest, but it does account for the simple fact that he feels <em>safe</em>, safer than he’s felt in years, and that alone is enough cause for him to shove better sense out of the picture.</p>
<p>The water bottle is long-since overfilled (twice).  Barry shoves the cap in place and puts it on the counter.  Steadying himself with a long breath, he slowly turns to look at Len and offers a soft whisper of, “We’re really doing this?”</p>
<p>“I’m in if you are, marshmallow boy.” The old smirk is back, and Barry can’t even bring himself to be offended because that smirk, that face, everything about this man just feels like <em>home</em> right now.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Barry leans in, just enough that their fingers brush in a loose hold atop the ceramic, “Yeah, I’m in.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes - I shamelessly ripped off the Legends scene where Len propositions Sara in the <em>Waverider</em>. #SorryNotSorry</p>
<p>Title is from The Tenors' "You and I (Vinceremo)".</p></blockquote></div></div>
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